We won the hockey game, despite my coworker Angie's predictions. Granted, she predicted the last game would be ours 3-2, which it was. So we thought, ok maybe she's on a roll. But no. I guess she used up all her luck on the last game and winning $10 on the lottery. Har har.

I need to empty my kittie litter cause, man, it don't smell good.

I tasted durian for the first time tonight. It's that awful fruit that is definitely an acquired taste. Very asian. There's a gelato shop in my hood, but it's all asian based, so there are flavours like sweet black rice, durian, and of course green tea etc. It's cool.

Anyway, the durian experience. It looks lovely. A sort of light mango-ey colour, it looked VERY appetizing. Then the ice cream guy (what DO you call those dudes?) handed me the little sample spoon-full of the foul stuff. I smelled it first, which a) I've heard you shouldn't do and b) since it has been touted as one of the most foul smelling fruits in the world, is all part of the experience. It smelled like a rotten t-shirt that had been soaked in BO and then left to steep in a dumpster for 3 months.

Despite the warning given off by the predatory fruit, I braved the storm and tasted it. It wasn't as bad as it smells, but believe you me, there is still the aftertaste in my mouth now, an hour later.

It tasted a bit like mango that had soaked in onion juice for eternity. It tasted basically like a very strong onion that had gone off slightly. I can say that it wasn't as bad as I thought, but I certainly won't be making it a part of my ice-cream favourites repertoire.

SO, since we won the hockey game, IN overtime, 3-2, and might I add we tied that game up in the last minute...PHEW, Vancouver has something to be proud of.

But here's the rant. Every fucking redneck in this city, whether they actually like hockey or not, whether they actually followed the game on TV, radio, or went to it, or did none of the above, proceeds to drive around the city for hours after the game honking the fucking horns of their redneckmobiles whilst screaming out the windows at the top of their beer soaked lungs.

I can understand the enthusiasm. It's one of the things that truly brings this otherwise racially/socially/class segregated city together. But come the fuck on guys...??? The game ended hours ago and you're still driving around the square block here in your lowered turquoise pick-up truck with the Canuck flags attached to the windows hollering like maw smacked ya a good 'un. Jeezus.

Someone even tried to throw a chair through the window of the local Starbucks. Not that Starbucks couldn't do with a chair through the window once in a while, but, really now. Am I a codger stick in the mud? Naw, I was fucking STOKED that we won. I just didn't feel the need to race around the city in a rusted out Impala with my nipples pressed against the passenger window whilst screaming "I love you Bertuzzi!!!!!!"

Anyway. Enough about rednecks. Now I'm getting all bent out of shape.

To the litter box, Batman.

On to game 5. BRING IT MINNESOTA! YOU MUTHAS!!!!!!!